Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Kesha
I was humming.
I was in a mood.
I was just in a good mood, was that illegal?
You got dicked down good, girl.
Yes, yes. I was aware of what had happened.
What happened was that my husband—my very large, very focused, very thorough husband—had spent the better part of last night doing things to me that I, despite knowing the English language quite well, could not completely describe but probably involved words like debauched, and this morning I had woken up pleasantly sore in ways that reminded me I had a body.
A completely sated body, one that could drive a male to worship me, apparently.
You are so embarrassing.
I was aware.
You know, for years you’ve been merciless when it comes to cutting silly words from sex scenes your authors send you. Member. Nubbin. Debauched. Ravished. Moist.
Perhaps I could reconsider my position on ravished. But nubbin was a stupid word I would continue to red flag.
I’d soaked in his huge bathtub for almost an hour while the boys played video games, the sound of them arguing about respawn points drifting through the walls. They hadn’t gone through the woods out back to their secret fort today, but I didn’t bother asking why.
The tub was absurd—some custom orc-sized claw-foot situation that I could float in without touching either end—and since Korrad had shown me how to use it last night, I’d made full use of it this morning.
God bless a male who owned his own bubble bath.
I just lay there and floated and let myself feel good about my life choices.
Here’s the thing about keeping score: I was still doing it. Korrad had told me, more than once, that this was unnecessary and that I owed him nothing. And intellectually, I accepted that.
My internal tally board apparently did not.
But even she—my own mental accountant, who had been crossing and recrossing columns for weeks, who lay awake adding up what he’d given against what I’d given and found the ratio humiliating—even she had to admit that last night had been…uh…significant.
Korrad had been focused, attentive. Every time I’d started to think about reciprocating, about making sure it was good for him too, he’d redirected me so smoothly I barely noticed until I was already somewhere else entirely.
I’d lost count of how many times I’d orgasmed—yay for magic orc biology, amiright?
—but Korrad had come twice. The second time, I’d made a point to rub his cum all over my pussy, and was delighted to report no adverse effects.
Which was good, because I’d been so very ready for him to fill me up with that delicious cinnamon treat.
Next time, he’d whispered, after cleaning me up again, and I’d fallen asleep on that promise… Only to wake up a few hours later with his head between my thighs again.
So yeah, it was no wonder I was humming now, chopping up fruit to go with the chicken salad sandwiches I’d made for me and Jay.
Milo was eating his peanut butter and jelly sandwich with that methodical focus he brought to all meals: systematic, no components touching, crusts left until last.
When I set Jay’s plate in front of him, he said, without looking up from his chips, “Thanks, Mom.”
Casual, just like that. Mom. Like it was the most natural sentence in the world.
I took a second.
Keep it together, Kesha.
I was keeping it together. I just—I remembered the way it had felt the first time Milo called Korrad Dad, that clenching in my chest, and this was the same.
Jay calling me Mom didn’t mean he was replacing Sharra.
It meant he was twelve and had decided this was how things were now and moved on with his life, the way kids do when the adults finally stop dithering.
I loved that kid so much it made me breathless. How had Milo’s best friend become mine so quickly? The same way this home and this island had become mine?
I set out the peaches—from the Saltaire Farm Stand, perfectly ripe, the kind of summer fruit that tastes like the platonic ideal of what summer fruit is supposed to be, the kind that makes you annoyed you ever tolerated a grocery store peach—and pushed the bowl toward Milo.
He was watching me with a frown that told me—from experience—that he was wrestling with something big.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“There’s something different about you.”
The flush hit my face so fast I nearly dropped the serving spoon. “Nothing’s different.” Could they hear how unnaturally high my voice had gone?
Milo’s frown deepened. Jay smirked over his sandwich but didn’t say anything.
“You were humming earlier,” Milo said flatly. “People only hum in movies.”
“Plenty of people hum, Milo.”
“Name one.”
“I—me. I hum. I’m a person.”
“You don’t hum.”
“I hum constantly.” Today at least.
“Hmm.” He didn’t look convinced. He took a peach slice, still watching me. “It’s different.”
“It’s what happens,” Jay said, “when you find your Mate.”
It was so innocently certain I sucked in a breath, half heartbroken for him. And for me, I supposed, to have to explain things to him.
Milo turned to him. “You mean like fall in love?”
“Sort of.” Jay shrugged. “It’s an orc thing. When an orc finds their Mate, they just—know. And then they change like that.” He waved his hand in my direction. “Happy all the time.”
Oh, this kid.
I was going to have to tread carefully.
“Jay, sweetheart.” I chose my words, picking my way carefully through what was coming. “I can be you and Milo’s mom and your dad’s wife, but I can’t be your father’s Mate. That’s not how it works.”
Jay looked skeptical. “Why not?”
“Because your dad already found his Mate.” Gently. “Your mother. When Sharra passed away, that must have been devastating for him. He’s still carrying that.”
Something I couldn’t read moved through Jay’s expression. He looked back down at his sandwich.
“Can’t Dad have more than one Mate?” Milo asked.
“No,” I said. “Apparently not.”
“Why not?”
Good question, kid.
“I don’t know the exact reason.” This wasn’t my area of expertise; I just knew what Korrad had said to me at our wedding reception. “I just know that orcs only get one. That’s how it was explained to me.”
Milo chewed this over along with his peach. “That seems like a bad design.”
His bland delivery surprised a laugh out of me. “You’re right, it does.” Because I was coming to realize I was jealous of a dead female, one who still held my husband’s heart. “But I’m really happy with the way things turned out. I like being Korrad’s wife.”
I mean, would I like it more if I was also his Mate? If I had the connection, the certainty Brakkor and Joss had? Sure. But what I had now was a thousand percent better than anything I’d had in the past.
Suddenly, Jay spoke up. “You know who we could ask about having two Mates? Giza. At the tattoo shop.”
“The old male,” Milo said immediately, nodding.
“He’s not that old,” I said, surprised. “His daughter is less than two years old.” I’d met him at one of the library events.
“He has gray hair,” Jay said with the confidence of someone who thought twenty-five was old. “That means he’s ancient. And Dad says he’s the memory keeper—that’s why he has so many tattoos, to hold the orc history. He’d know about Mates.”
I was absolutely not calling a near-stranger to ask him personal questions about my husband’s past.
“That’s a great idea,” I lied weakly. “Maybe sometime.”
And bent back over my chicken salad.
All afternoon, the boys talked about what they’d do with Brakkor and Jocelyn for the weekend—a planned beach trip, a shopping excursion to the mainland for a type of ice cream I know Joss had been missing, and movie marathons—and I found myself getting excited too.
Not for the ice cream, although that sounded good…but about being alone with Korrad.
When we’d planned this weekend, Joss had suggested it as some time for us to be alone. Of course, she’d been mugging and nudging my side, so I know what she’d meant…and I was grateful we’d been in the middle of making potato salad for a cookout, so she wouldn’t see my embarrassment.
Because then, Korrad and I had no reason to be alone.
Now?
Now we very much did.
And I couldn’t wait to explore more alone time with my husband.
I was determined to get his cock in my mouth at least once before the end of this weekend—determined to bring him pleasure…
“What was that, Mom?” Milo stuck his head around the door from our—his room. “You just moaned.”
“No, I didn’t.” I scowled while I fanned my cheeks to cool them. “Go finish packing your duffle. Don’t forget your toothbrush and Mr. Cuddles.”
“I would never forget Mr. Cuddles,” my son told me seriously before ducking back into the room I’d shared with him up until yesterday.
He hadn’t asked me why I hadn’t slept in the room last night, and had merely grinned when I’d come out of Korrad’s room this morning. I guess he was happy to have a space to himself?
And I was more than happy to share with Korrad.
Last night had been incredible.
Shortly after four in the afternoon, we heard his truck pull up outside. “You two almost ready?” I called, closing my laptop on the manuscript I hadn’t been able to concentrate on and plopping my reading glasses down on the arm of the sofa. “Dad’s going to take you over, right?”
Since the two of them were yelling something in Jay’s bedroom, I didn’t think they heard me. Good, that left me some privacy to greet Korrad…
When I did, in the front hallway, his grin was as pleased as mine, and when I pulled him down for a kiss, his turned positively wicked. The way the ridges of his tongue swiped over mine told me all I needed to know.
Oh yeah, this is going to be a fun weekend.
“The boys ready?” he murmured as he straightened.
“Almost.”
“Good, let me wash up, and I can load them up.” He winked. “I’ll bring home some takeout tonight. Gotta take care of my wife.”
Gosh, my insides went all gooey when he said stuff like that.
But then there was that quiet little voice that asked what is he getting out of this? just when I thought I was finally done keeping score…